


Forget and Bleed

by Briarwolf (Tru)



Category: L/R: Licensed by Royal
Genre: A little angst, M/M, Mostly Pwp, Smut, Some plot if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-06
Updated: 2004-06-06
Packaged: 2018-08-17 06:57:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8134535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tru/pseuds/Briarwolf
Summary: Jack may be falling apart, but Rowe is there to piece him back together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Initially written as a birthday gift for a friend. I'm no longer friends with that person, but I still like the fic enough to clean up the massive tense shift problem in the original and put it up even though it was written more than 10 years ago. Takes place after disc 3 of the American DVD release (which runs through episode 10) and knowing what happens in those episodes may enhance the story but isn't strictly necessary.

Jack is drunk.

He does it well though. Only the faintest of slurs mars his speech, words spoken with the same meticulous deliberation as always. His steps are careful; slow. His impeccable poise is drawn over the surface of the tangled emotions beneath. Not a ripple to eyes that aren’t as familiar as mine.

I see it though, following at a distance as he walks carefully down the dark street. He knows I’m here, but this is almost a game for us. When he’s ready he’ll come to me, if I get close before then his blue eyes will be ice. His determination a wall I can’t break.

Inhale. The orange glow at the end of my cigarette flares and I hear the crackle as the paper burns. In this silence it’s loud. Like the explosion from earlier, condensed into a tiny scale. Like the pain that burns in the man that walks alone in front of me.

Exhale. The smoke obscures the air between us and for a minute he’s hard to see. Five years, and I’d known nothing. He’d solved the puzzle like he’d expected it, ignoring my muttered calculations beside him. He’d nearly left me behind, looking startled as I jumped into the car and opening his mouth for a moment as if he’d object.

The smoke clears and I see that he’s stopped moving. He stares at the ground, one hand tightly clutched in the pale blond strands of hair that crown his head. The bottle of whiskey in his other hand slides slowly free from his grip, amber liquid and shards of glass glittering on the pavement beside his feet.

Motionless I wait. His shoulders hitch, and I hear the catch of his breathing as he struggles for control. He shudders, a long shivering exhalation sliding between his lips and into the darkness. His free hand lifts, stretching backward toward me, fingers revealing a delicate tremor in the dim light of a distant street lamp.

I flip my cigarette out into the darkness as I make my way quickly to his side, my darker hand folding around his with a reassuring press. He turns toward me, head still lowered and turned to the side. A flash of silver reflects from the new cuff on his ear, and I have to close my eyes against the rising tide of jealousy in my chest.

“Take me home, Rowe.”

 

Cloud House. I lead him through the door, his fingers creeping up the inside of my arm, hot against the chill the night has set into my skin. His touch is urgent, scrambling in search of a way to forget, a way to escape the sight of headlights drawing sparks of ruby from the blood that had pooled on the road.

I push him back against the door. My room, always my room for this. I bring him here so the scent of him will linger in my sheets, the shape of him leave a dent in the mattress. This way, I can pretend he is mine.

He is looking at me now, as my thigh slides between his legs and my head lowers, bringing my lips to hover just above his. I stare into his eyes as my tongue slicks over his bottom lip, catching the burn of whiskey and the dark flavor of tobacco that lingers there.

My hands glide up his sides and over his chest, slipping beneath the shoulders of his white jacket and pushing it free of his arms to fall in a heap on the floor. He surges forward, hands lifting to cup my face as he presses his lips to mine. His tongue pushes into my mouth, rough and hot and frantic.

I break away from him, stepping back and drawing my shirt over my head while his fingers tug at the knot in his tie, leaving it dangling loose from his collar. The buttons down the front of the blue shirt are next. Jack’s fingers are clumsy and I step forward, pulling the bottom of the shirt free from his slacks.

I work upward quickly, the frantic urge that had gripped him earlier infecting me now. Our fingers meet on the last button, and as it slips free I close my hand around his left wrist, drawing his arm upward and pinning it against the door at his back.

His head falls to lean against his arm, and my eyes linger for a long moment on the exposed line of his throat. I press my lips to the fast throb of his pulse, inhaling the scent of his skin; tobacco, aftershave, alcohol, a faint hint of sweat.

My lips part and I bite down, drawing a hiss of mingled pain and pleasure from Jack. My tongue strokes over the spot, soothing away the pain as my free hand slides beneath Jack’s shirt, fingers teasing his nipple. His back arches slightly, and his breath shudders in his throat.

I growl, hard and aching and unable to wait any longer to have him in my bed, in me. I drop his wrist, staring at the strip of flesh revealed by his open shirt. His skin is so white it practically glows, my own looking dirty beside it. I drag my fingertips roughly down his chest and stomach, leaving lines of redness behind. He gasps, blue eyes burning into me as I jerk his belt from its loops, unfasten his pants and push them to his ankles.

The blue bikini briefs match the shirt to perfection, and the ghost of a smile flits across my lips before my need again takes over and I pull them down with a haste that draws a wince of discomfort from Jack. I lean forward, so close I can feel the heat of him against my cheek and the hair loose beside my face brushes his skin.

A soft pleading gasp breaks from his throat, his hands sliding into my hair and closing tightly, making me flinch and close my eyes against the sudden sting. His grip loosens slightly, and I turn my head, tongue reaching to curl across the underside of his shaft and then dragging in a quick motion toward the tip.

I take a deep breath, exhaling over the dampness on his skin and he shudders, hips thrusting forward so that the head of his cock bumps hot against my parted lips. My mouth opens and I slide my lips down the length of him, the thick salty taste of him exploding on my tongue.

My hand cups his balls as my head bobs between his legs. I marvel, as always, about the softness of his skin here, the weight in my hands. Suddenly his hand is on my cheek, and he is pulling away from me with a harsh gasp.

I look up at him, licking the taste of him from my lips as he draws a deep breath, eyes closed and cheeks lightly flushed. I rest my hands on his hips, standing slowly and lowering my head to place nipping kisses on his collarbone. When his eyes again open I release him and step back, watching him as I unfasten my pants and drop them.

He stalks toward me and I retreat toward the bed, but he catches me just before I can reach it. His hands close around my upper arms as he jerks my body toward his. Our skin meet, the burning heat of my erection pressing just above his, the friction as he moves making me shudder.

The hard pressure of his fingers vanishes from my arms as he lifts his hands to cup my face, pulling me in to meet his lips with my own. His tongue slides against mine, warm and rough. Behind the intensity is a tenderness that I don't dare hope for, that I can't let myself believe.

He breaks the kiss with a soft sigh, lips tracing a path up my jaw before he releases me completely. He steps back, blue eyes lingering over the length of my body. I sink down on the bed, flushing slightly under his gaze but raising my hands and beckoning him closer all the same.

When he draws closer to the bed I stretch out, inviting him to join me with my hands and eyes and parted lips. He crawls into the bed and kneels between my splayed knees, drawing a path up my thighs with the tips of his fingers.

I moan as he brushes close to my cock, just barely avoiding letting his skin touch mine. This is torture; I need him panting above me, pressing inside me. I reach for his hips, pulling him forward so he tumbles on top of me. Our bodies connect in one long hot line.

He knows what I need and the look in his eyes promises that my wait is over. His hand snakes beneath the pillows and finds the packet and tube that he is looking for. He rolls to one side, our legs still tangled as he tears the packet open.

I sit up and take the condom from him, licking my lips as I carefully unroll it down the length of his shaft. His eyes widen and he makes a soft sound in his throat, cock twitching under my fingers. When I finish I slide a teasing finger behind his balls, pressing into his perineum.

Jack growls, surging upward and pushing me roughly back down on the bed. His breath comes in harsh pants as he quickly slicks his length with the lube, pressing himself between my thighs and stopping with an obvious effort.

“Rowe... Rowe,” he murmurs, staring down at me before plunging forward and driving himself into me in a single hard thrust.

A ragged groan is torn from my throat as he sets a quick rhythm, his hips snapping toward me and his flesh slapping against my own. One of my hands twists the sheet beneath me, the other grasping his arm and feeling the muscles tremble under my touch.

His arms fold, dropping his elbows to the bed and he slides one hand between us. His hand closes around me and I jerk, feeling my blood pound through my body in time to the strokes of his hand. He stops and I whimper in desperation, writhing as I feel him slowly draw himself out of my body.

He slides backwards and grasps my hips, flipping me over onto my chest and knees, my cheek pressed to the bed underneath me. One hand splays wide across my back as he drives himself into me again. The other hand curls around me, and he times his strokes to the thrusting of his hips.

I toss my head, feeling the rasp of the sheets against my cheek as I tense and moan. His grip tightens and I spill over the edge in a hot, sticky splash against my stomach. My body goes limp, and his hands move to grip my hips as he jerks over me.

His thrusts quicken and his hands spasm on my hips. He is always quiet when he comes, a long shuddering gasp slipping between his lips as he freezes but for uncontrollable twitches of his hips. He collapses against my back, sweat soaked skin clinging to mine.

I shift and lower myself to my side, feeling him slide out of me though he remains curled tight against my back. His arm snakes under mine and curves around my chest, his lips pressing against my shoulder.

He shifts away from me for an instant, and I hear the dull thump of the used condom hitting the bottom of the garbage can. I shiver as the chill air touches my damp skin, but he is quickly back in place, and after a moment his breath deepens as he nears sleep.

My hand rests lightly over his on my chest, my heartbeat slowing under our twined fingers. Just before I follow him into sleep he breathes a word against my back. My eyes close against the flicker of pain that I feel.

I know we won't have forever, but making myself believe it is harder than I thought it would be. It is all too easy to forget the world outside this bed and pretend there is no need to bleed.


End file.
